


Prompt Card Drabbles

by verucasalt123



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Drabble Collection, Fanged Four, Implied Slash, Multi, Nostalgia, Souled Vampire(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 03:19:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7784614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verucasalt123/pseuds/verucasalt123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three drabbles for a prompt card at nekid_spike</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prompt Card Drabbles

Drabble #1 :What do you mean I need a new look?

Spike rounded on Angel. “A new look? There’s nothing wrong with my _look_ , ponce!”

“I’m just saying, it’s… _dated_. You lost the jewelry and eyeliner from the 70’s, but other than that, you haven’t really made any updates.”

“Why change what works? I don’t need a mirror to tell me I look just fine like this.”

Angel laughed. “I used to be amazed at Darla and Dru, always managing to make their hair and makeup impeccable without a mirror.”

“You don’t need a mirror, either”, Spike said. 

“I don’t wear lipstick and eyeshadow, now do I?”

 

Drabble #2: Alone

This is the way it should be. The way it has to be, he thinks.

Angelus hasn’t ever spent much time alone, even when he was still Liam. 

He hates it. But he deserves it. 

What choice does he have, after all? Even if he stays with his family, his _real_ family, Spike and the girls...They would never keep him around. Not like this. 

Souled. Miserable. Guilty. Unwilling to take human lives. They’d never want him. Hell, Darla might stake him. He wouldn’t blame her. 

No, he is better off like this. Alone, to contemplate his sins.

 

Drabble #3: Those were the days

Spike sometimes closed his eyes and tuned it out when Angel was being a monumental prick. Let his mind wander to how things were when the four of them lived together. Cruel and awful as Angelus could be back then, he wasn’t _the boss_. 

As Angel stormed around the room barking orders, Spike looked back fondly on memories of the Angelus of old. Cowed into silence by Darla’s sharp tongue. Her rings leaving distinctive marks when she’d effortlessly backhand him.

He could probably use a reminder that he hadn’t always been at the top of the pecking order.


End file.
